Chapter Seven
It took Micro about forty minutes to get to Harley’s place, by which time I’d given in and settled wearily into the chair usually occupied by Harley’s old lady.
I didn’t know where Caroline was right now, but I was grateful for the seat.
Rocket’s little dog, Nixie, was happily in her little ‘compound’ in the gap between the desk and his counter, chewing on some obscene looking pink toy.
Did she steal something from his bird or what?
“Sorry, sorry. Had to drop Soph and the baby at the club, then go back for my ride. What’s going… Fucking hell, you got jumped too? What the hell is going on lately? First Henley with the Double Ds and now you? Do you need a doc?”
Hell, at least it sounded like they cared, but how long would that last, I wondered, as I picked up the bottle of water Harley had given me and took a gulp.
Harley headed over to lock the shop door, flipping the sign around, and then he dragged his chair over to us, while Micro and Rocket sat on the bench seat Rocket had added when he started actually getting clients and bitched about no seating for people.
“Okay, brother. Tell us. We’re here.”
I stared at my hands, which were bruised and bloodied themselves. Sure, I’d washed them, but broken skin on knuckles keeps breaking every time you move your damn fingers.
“This happened after my stint on the motorway,” I said slowly, wondering for the millionth time how to explain this without sounding like a creeper.
“It’s okay, brother. Did something happen to your ride?
I noticed it’s not outside,” Micro said, rubbing his jaw as he eyed Harley.
Those two could have whole presidential fucking conversations with a look sometimes.
Were they plotting the end for me? Taking my cut?
Casting me out? Phoenix was my home, and I was starting to realise just how much I stood to lose here.
“It’s in town. Uh… okay, so, there’s this girl,” I hesitated as they all groaned, and I’m sure they immediately imagined I’d run foul of some boyfriend or something, and fuck me, I wish. That wouldn’t get me booted. This will. I’m certain of it.
“I was just stopping by to check she’s okay, and-”
“Wait, so you’re actually seeing someone-”
“Let him talk, Rocket, dammit.”
“Define seeing,” I said finally, and Micro cursed, in fact, I think Harley did too at the exact same moment, and would everyone just stop fucking twinning right now? I’ve got enough twins to worry about.
“Stalking? Brother, this shit’s gotta stop! No wonder you got your ass kicked. Some girl’s dad or something? Jesus, she’s of age, right?”
Micro jabbed Rocket in the chest to shut him up, but that look on his face had gone from fatherly to kinda scary.
“Details, Stag. Leave nothing out.”
Fuck me. I’m dead. I dragged a bloody hand through that fucking gritty shit in my hair. Fucking Marco. I’d kill him next time. He suckerpunched me, that’s what it was.
“Fine. I checked out her place, like I always do on my way home. All was quiet, but there was some fucker skulking around down the road, so I thought I’d check it out and… Jesus. Long story short, that fucker was a Bennett enforcer, and I’m now apparently working for them.”
“FUCK’S SAKE!” Micro yelled, getting up from the bench with his hands fisting his hair.
“It’s like you just don’t think, dammit! Those fuckers have been trying to get us under their thumb for weeks, months even, and I had it sorted. I had it all fucking settled. Just a fucking hen night to provide security for, and now what, you’re getting us in deeper?”
They all stared at me and I sighed, slumping in the chair.
“I dunno. Whatever.”
“WHATEVER?”
Harley rested a calming hand on Micro’s shoulder, and crouched down in front of me.
“We need more details than this. You’re all beaten up, they did that?”
“Marco. The big fucker who dates that scary chick.”
“For what?”
This wasn’t going to go well, so why hold anything back.
“I witnessed them beating on some guy, got caught, and somehow I asked for a job. This,” I gestured to the mess my face probably was, “was my interview, audition, whatever.”
Harley stood back up and he and Micro disappeared off into the workshop area, while Rocket just watched me, tapping his fingers on the bench beside him.
“Just say it, whatever it is. I know I’m done. Those assholes want me to spy on the club, and I’m not fucking doing it.”
He frowned. “Why didn’t you tell them that part? What you just said makes it sound like you’re risking the club, but you’re not. I mean, you’re not, right?”
I groaned, resting my head in my hands, while my elbows dug viciously into my bruised knees. How the fuck were they… oh right, I hit the ground at various fucking angles.
“I’m a fucking disaster. I can’t do anything right. I can’t even watch over a woman and keep her safe without fucking everything up.”
“What woman? Talk to me, brother,” he said softly, moving over to the chair beside me.
“The one from the rock club. The one I got hit for talking to. I can’t get her out of my fucking head, it’s like she burrowed in, and all I see is her eyes, and those lips, and fuck… I just want her. I want her so much, but she’s…”
“What?”
“She’s deaf, man.”
He smirked suddenly. “That actually sounds like a good thing. You stand a better chance of not fucking up if she can’t hear what comes out of that mouth.”
If only. I sighed again, leaning back in the seat, a palm landing on my chest as I moved, because fuck. That fucker.
“She needs to be kept safe, man. She can’t hear predators and stuff. Anyone could sneak up on her, hurt her, attack her. I need to keep her safe, even if I can’t have her.”
Micro and Harley reappeared, both looking grim, and there we have it.
I’m out. No woman, probably no job now, and no club or home.
This is how it feels to lose everything in one fell swoop.
My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest, there was sweat dripping down my back, and everything hurt from the fight.
I think I’ve got new bruises on top of the old ones from the Double D massacre.
“He’s in love, Pres.”
Micro groaned, sitting back down on the bench, with Harley joining him. It was like an interview panel, and I’m getting really fucking sick of being interviewed like I’m not just trying to survive every fucking day.
“Here’s how we see this,” Micro started, dragging a hand over the back of his neck, “right now you haven’t harmed the club. Right now, you’re merely straddling a line between them and us. I’m betting they want inside info on us, and I’m also betting you said fuck no to that part.”
Hallelujah, finally someone was getting me right. I nodded, but he wasn’t done.
“Nevertheless, we can’t have a brother working for them unless we’re protected, you get that.”
I stood up, wincing as pain shot through every fucking inch of me, and grabbed my cut in both hands. They were taking it. This is the moment where I lose everything.
“Sit down, you idiot. You’re not getting booted. You fucked up. You do it plenty, we’re used to that. The Bennetts are trying to get all up in our biz, again, we’re used to that. There’s a way we all win, yeah?”
Was there? I couldn’t sit back down or I’d never get up. Why didn’t I ask for painkillers when I got here? I’m such a dumbass.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Pres.”
Micro grinned, looking every bit the deadly man I knew he still was.
“You’ll keep an eye on them for us. Get in with them. Find out what kinda shit they do, and where we might get some leverage on them. This shit goes both ways. They want dirt on us, they want us indebted to them, but why can’t we do the same?”
I was wrong. I’m not getting booted. They’re getting me killed instead. And outside of all of this bullshit, I was still wondering if my woman was awake and getting started with her day. I hoped it was going better than mine.
Claudia
My new phone was great, and I was able to retrieve all my data thanks to the help of my sister, and some frustrating moments for her on with customer service.
Having read and been told how frustrating those calls could be, I was glad I wasn’t able to make them.
You have to look for that silver lining everywhere, because some days it’s hard to see positives.
It was a few days after the incident and we’d gone to the club to relax and let the music fill our souls.
It was really the only place that I felt like I was a normal person, feeling the beat so intensely that all I was missing was the lyrics.
It was easy to fill those gaps with an app on my phone if I wanted, but tonight what I wanted was to dance.
The taxi dropped us outside by the door, and we stepped into the long queue to get in. It was always a bit of a wait to get in, but worth it for the freedom it gave me to be my best self.
I caught the eye of the bouncer as I stepped to the side to check the queue, and signed ‘hi’ to him, because he knew some sign language and always made the effort with me.
He grinned and waved at me to come forward.
I shook my head, not wanting to be a queue jumper, even though I really wanted in, but he did it again, signing the word ‘please’.
Dammit. I grabbed Marissa’s hand and led her past the queue, while people glared and some of them were clearly making comments which I gladly couldn’t hear, although Marissa was flipping people off, while the bouncer pointed and yelled something at them.
*Sorry,* I signed, *We can wait to get in.*
He shook his head, scanning our cards for the cover charge, and pointing at the door. Nice. It was a bit of an ego boost to get skipped ahead of the queue.
As soon as we stepped inside the sights and scents hit me, perfumes, alcohol, that smell of bodies writhing warmly together on the dancefloor. And the booming of the music was vibrating up through my feet, and filling me with the carefree joy of knowing I was in my happy place again.
Marissa tugged on my hand and led me to the bar, where we quickly downed two vodka cranberry drinks, which in here were named Grimm’s Berries, and then we moved to our usual spot on the dancefloor, where the beat was the most intense for me.
A guy fairly quickly started dancing up against Marissa, and she sent me a questioning look, because she’d never abandon me, and I nodded, waving her off.
In here, we were safe. In here, nobody would pull anything, because there were at least five large bouncers in the place watching over the dancers, the club, and that motorcycle that women weren’t allowed to get on.
The rumour was that he’d claim any woman who climbed on it, and yet nobody had tried since I’d been here.
I had no idea why, because he was hot. He looked like a vampire, and mingled with all of us, dancing with the ladies, and fist bumping the men as he passed them.
He was an enigma, an extra delight in this place, and it meant I was always scanning for him.
I closed my eyes, letting the beat fill me and lift all my troubles away.
This is what I came here for. Freedom. Release.
Comfort. For once I didn’t feel like I was missing a sense, or trapped in a silent world, because the beat was so heavy and throbbing that I was feeling it, even felt like I could hear it.
It was like my world actually opened up wider.
It gave me hope. That’s weird, but that’s how it felt
Some guy suddenly started dancing up behind me, and instead of stressing about who the hell it might be, and if he’s cute, and if he wants more, I just went with it.
Marissa was distracted with the guy whose face she was currently trying to devour, and that meant I could just enjoy it.
Contact. Physical contact. Maybe I don’t get to have sex very often, but rubbing up against some stranger in a club is good foreplay before I go home and scratch that itch with my favourite toy.
His arms slid around my stomach, pulling me tighter against him as we moved and writhed to the music, and I glanced down to see tattoos reaching almost to his wrists, bright and colourful, although some of that could have been due to the coloured lights moving over the dancefloor.
We were so in sync, moving together as if we’d been made to do it, which was insane because behind me could be anybody, hell even Grimm himself.
He was hot, but I wasn’t sure he was my type exactly.
If I even had a type. I reached back, sliding my hand around the man’s neck, holding him to me as he held me close, our bodies sliding together in the most intimate way for two people who weren’t actually fucking.
He released me with one arm, and then lifted his phone in front of me.
It was a music recognition app, telling me the song we were dancing to was #1 Crush by Garbage.
I’d heard of the band, even the song, but of course I didn’t know it.
How did he know I couldn’t hear it? Was I dancing badly?
Was I off in my movements so it became obvious?
He swiped the screen and in front of me was a typed message.
Keep moving, baby, you were born to dance.
Wow, were tears suddenly burning my eyes? How did he… how did he know what I needed to know?
I spun in his arms, and his slackened I think because he hadn’t expected it.
He was cute. Dark hair slicked back, black eyeliner done a little clumsily, and a healthy amount of stubble on his face.
He grinned at me and I followed the instinct that made me turn in the first place, pulling his face to mine.
Our lips touched, and magic seemed to fill the air around us.
I know that sounds dramatic, but it felt like we were meant to be together.
Like the way our lips moved so expertly together was because our lips were meant for each other’s.
He cupped the back of my head, his other pressing against my back, the phone digging in a little, but not enough to ruin it.
We were still moving, our bodies now pressed up against each other as his tongue eased against mine, and he angled my head to take it deeper.
My god. I’d never been kissed like this.
I’d never felt so much from one touch, one kiss. So much emotion flooding me.
He clearly knew who I was, because he’d used his phone to communicate, but he couldn’t possibly know how much that act had meant to me. Including me, empowering me. It was everything, and I wanted more.